


Ruins: Winter Veil Special 2020

by Nrubluos



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: The Feast of Winter Veil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28647315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nrubluos/pseuds/Nrubluos
Summary: The Feast of Winter Veil comes but once a year, and for each, a special point of cheer. For while the sands may scorch and burn, of winter's gifts some have yet to learn. For a fox of troubled past, whose thoughts, feelings of joy, does fast, into embattled quests might fight, still softly drifts into the night. And though a hideous gift may lay, perhaps, too, a treasured reason to stay.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Ruins: Winter Veil Special 2020 part 1

Wrack was going to be there. Wrack and Sebaas and Esava. Maybe even Neeks if the zeppelin didn't get delayed over the ocean.

Wrack had a boat now. She called it a ship, but what was a ship if not a big boat? But Wrack had one. She had a place to sleep and food and she didn't really need anything more than what she had. Sure, she still went out and explored... and she still fought a bunch of those humans... and she never really forgave the Sethrak (even if she kept reminding her that they weren't all like the Faithless), but she didn't really ~need~ any of that anymore.

And Sebaas... he was a special case. He never really got better. But at least he never got worse either. He didn't really have a home of his own. He didn't have food or water or anything like that. He had his armor and his weapons and his brothers and sisters in their flying pyramid thing. He didn't really need anything though either, so, she guessed he was alright in his own way.

And Esava. She could always be counted on to smile and laugh. She was always happy, always sweet. She was bigger than everyone else, both taller and wider, but she moved just as quick and was always the first to share whatever she had. Esava wasn't like her other friends though... she was a bear... thing. But a good bear thing as far as she was concerned. Always friendly and helpful and cooking something tasty. Honestly, it was probably a good thing that she didn't see Esava more often... she was fairly certain her belts wouldn't buckle after a few days of her cooking. Always fun, Esava, but just as likely to 'accidentally' explode a guest as she was to tend to their wounds. She was glad friends never seemed to suffer accidents.

Neeks, if he made it, would be just as happy to see them all. Out of all her friends, he was the only one who shared more than history with her. Neeks, despite his cheerful smile, has another warlock, and a dangerous one at that. Sure, he'd be happy to set up camp or cook or fix a broken axel, but unlike the others, he never even pretended to be anything more than a warlock. Where Wrack was a 'captain' and Sebaas was a 'knight', Esava was a 'priestess' and even she was just exploring, Neeks didn't even try to muffle his laughter as he lit things on fire or detonated body parts while draining the souls of his enemies.

But, they got along well enough, and honestly, it was nice to have someone else who understood how things worked.

And, of course, there would be her imps. Always had a little pack of the them hopping around. Sneaky, clever, helpful, little demons. She'd probably summon Abarin, her personal imp, or maybe Krakgrave, her voidwalker, if she felt a bit overwhelmed.

And, if HE was there, she'd probably be doing her best to stay near her friends.

It wasn't that she was afraid of the undead, far from it. She'd grown up in the desert, surrounded by corpses that refused to stay buried. Some of them talked. Some of them wandered. And some of them just didn't know any better. She'd gotten used to the undead over the years... even made a few friends among them. Had a few friends made into them as well, but that wasn't anyone's choice.

But HE wasn't like the skeletons or the floating armor. He was like a body that just got tired of being dead and decided to go for a walk.

His skin was pale and torn, sometimes stitched back closed... sometimes simply cut away out of convenience. His hair, what little remained, was long and pulled back, though the top of his head was bare. Bones were exposed at many of his joints and his fingers had long since been sharpened into dagger-like spikes. Most disconcerting though, were his eyes: empty sockets that held the flickering glow of necromantic magic.

That and his jaw was blatantly not the original... clearly stitched on and roughly maintained in a perpetual frown of disapproval.

She didn't like Nrubluos... even if he was a warlock... and even if Esava and Neeks vouched for the former human. And even-even though he kept the orcs from taking her stuff, she never felt really safe around him.

But, even if he did attend, she'd stay to see Wrack and Sebaas and Esava and Neeks. They, at least, were her friends.

Nodding to herself, Telloslyra adjusted her pack and checked the dozen or so softly glowing vials of plague hanging from her belt and shoulder guards. Between her imps, her spells, and those vials, she felt reasonably sure she wouldn't be stopped at the gate.

Then again, it was a very large gate.

Orgrimmar was, after all, the capital of the Horde. A fortress of stone and iron with braziers and bonfires kept burning year round, it stood as a reminder of all they had accomplished and all they had lost.

Even now, as a chill wind caused her to fluff her coat just a bit more, it bristled with spears and movement. Everywhere the eye lingered, orcs wandered, going about whatever it was that orcs did when they weren't soldiering or grunting or banging loud things loudly.

And where there weren't orcs, there were trolls. Easily the tallest among them, the lanky creatures wandered with an easy gate, often carrying on as if the world was just a bit too fast and they a bit too sleepy to care.

Then there were the taruen. She liked them as a whole. Huge. Calm. Kind. Violent when angered. She could understand them the best of the strange inhabitants of the place. She could relax a bit around the tauren... mostly because no one was foolish enough to anger a tauren and they made for wonderful napping spots.

The elves were just irritating in general. They either wanted to keep touching her or seemed disgusted by her existence. She snorted at the thought. She knew of fewer than sixteen elves that she liked.... and she rarely took the time to count more than four of anything. She'd made an exception for counting how many she liked out of an entire species.

And where there weren't the others, there were goblins. She felt bad for the goblins. They weren't very different from vulpera really... just... probably cold without enough fur to cover them up. She guessed that was why some of them had long hair... brightly colored or not... it was probably to keep warm. Then again, they did tend to explode fairly frequently so maybe they just didn't need as much fur? Whatever the case, they were clever and quick, which was probably two of three things to pointing out a vulpera in any place. A big fluffy tail was the third, and while they most certainly lacked that one, she was reasonably sure that the coils of wire, rope, and explosives they tended to drag around counted.

Sort of.

Tugging her little brass crown down a little tighter in the cold, she once more wished that this winter veil thing happened in the summer in Orgrimmar. When Neeks had sent his imp to invite her, he'd said to dress warmly, which didn't make sense at all. Then, almost as if he knew what she'd been thinking, the little imp had said "put on MORE clothes! Don't leave them behind. Dress for COLD!"

Who would want to ever be cold? Why would you put on more clothes if they were going to make you colder? It hadn't made sense then, and riding the ship across the ocean in three cloaks with four robes and balancing two more hats on her crown had been very uncomfortable.

Not to mention HOT.

But by the time she'd arrived at the strange little wooden island off the coast of a huge red land, it had all made sense.

Maybe Neeks' imp had been trying to be helpful. Maybe he just forgot to say she needed to bring the clothes. Maybe he was being a naughty imp and had tricked her.

If it were the last one, her little swarm of imps would teach him a lesson when they met again.

She nodded to herself as she continued walking up to the gates of Orgrimmar, trying her best to seem like she knew where she was going... like she had business there and that she belonged.

One of the guards, a large, greenish gray orc with little more than a belt, boots, and huge red shoulderpads, pointed at her before starting to walk over.

Silently she growled to herself. Just what she didn't want!

She'd gotten dressed up for the cold. She'd packed all her stuff away tightly. She'd eaten before getting off the boat. She'd even made sure not to summon her vulpine mount to 'prevent the rumors' like Neeks said some orcs liked to spread... whatever that meant. She'd done ALL the things! And some orc brute was still coming to bother her!

As the guard closed the distance, she drew to a stop and looked up with her fiercest snarl ready to be unleashed.

And then the guard knelt down and made a face that looked like he was in great pain while holding out a box about the size of her whole arm.

"I'd wager you're Telloslyra," he grunted before coughing lightly. "I was told to give this to you when you showed up dressed for Icecrown." Again he made that painful face where his lips curled a bit around the oversized canines jutting from his jaw. "Promised I'd get it to you. You are Telloslyra, right?"

Cautiously, and never taking her eyes off the hulking thing, she reached out before snatching the box, only for an imp to pop into existence and cackle.

The orc, probably shocked by the appearance, fell back on his rear while a few nearby orcs started to laugh at his reaction. Spluttering and embarrassed, the guard jolted back to his feet and spun around, shouting back at them as their teasing turned into a game of insults and lost honor.

But she did her best to simply scuttle by while they were distracted, Abarin dutifully hopping along behind her with the box.

Inside the wall was only a little better. There were armored orcs and trolls everywhere, and they calmly watched with the disinterested gaze of those trained to spot a spy. Troublemaker, she might be, but though she rarely came, she knew that Orgrimmar was no stranger to the vulpera. They'd made their invitation and some clever sandcoat had bought their entire race into the good graces of a nation of strangeness. The Horde was constantly at war, and while war was far from what she wanted, she happily had taken up arms when she'd found that they were at war with the humans.

After all, the humans had slaughtered vulpera slaves and escapees for the crime of offering the ones who helped them overthrow the Sethrak a place to stay.

How does saying "thank you" turn into a declaration of war? The Vulpera weren't even a nation! They were nomads after the Sethrak destroyed The Burrows!

The sound of chain shifting made her look up to see the hulking mass of a orc in black leather watching her closely, the shifting chain on a massive axe being the likely source of the sound.

With a moment, she realized she'd been thinking about the Sethrak again and forced her face back into an apologetic 'smile'... far from how she was feeling, but still better for the guard than what must have looked like 'massacre in wait.'

After a few tense seconds, the guard looked away, and with no further reason to delay, she darted into the city proper.

Once out of the gate, the city opened up before her. No longer the claustrophobic press of iron and stone, Orgrimmar kept most of its open air aesthetic, if one could ignore the flights of bat-winged, scorpion tailed, lions and the dozens of guards milling about.

But a city it was, and a city that (if not for the orcs and trolls) would probably have felt quite familiar.

Everywhere there were rocks and desert plants. Dry, sharp edged, and bristling with thorns and needles. Perfectly safe and nice to curl up under. There were beetles that could chew up armor and even a few birds that braved the smoke from the countless stone structures. A few towers, all capped with thick wood or stretched leather, dotted the area and everywhere, positively everywhere, the scent of meat, stale yeast, and smoke, drifted like some welcome friend.

Missing were the vargos, the shops and mobile villages of the Vulpera, but in their place were hovels and lasting businesses wrought in iron and rock.

The barked call of a nearby tavern drew her gaze, and she paced over, looking up to the orc woman who stood easily twice her height, but seeing none of the anger or distrust of the guards. When she stayed watching just a little too long, the orc smiled down at her and stepped a bit to the side, waving her in.

So she entered, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, smiled.

There, in the smoke heavy warmth of a small room centered around a large table with a fire popping and hissing in the middle, she caught the familiar face of a vulpera she could never miss.

"'Ay! You made it!" called out Wrack with a wave, her 'pirating hat' perched merrily between golden toned ears.

A smile split Wrack's face as she called to the barkeep for another bottle to add to the collection on the table before she turned back and yelped as another imp popped into the room.

"Never get used to that," she frowned momentarily at the imp who cackled merrily before scampering off into the dark, flickering light the only evidence of his presence. "Neeks and Sebaas went to fetch Nru, but they said not to worry. He's just an odd duck with too many sails and not enough rudder."

She was fairly certain that's not what they had actually said, but Wrack had been trying her best to get into her piratey talking.

For her own part, she tried her best to ignore the promise of the undead and slipped onto the bench seat across from Wrack. Behind her, she knew Abarin was likely propping the box up on a wall and making absolutely sure no one tried to take it. She'd made her expectations very clear when she'd first summoned the imp, and despite a bit of a rocky start, he'd been a perfect little imp ever since. He might have even been helping her to learn the orcish language that everyone in the Horde seemed so fond of using.

Heck, Wrack was talking in it and she would bet Wrack didn't even have to think about it.

Of course, that made the attack an absolute surprise as she suddenly found herself being yanked off the bench and the air crushed out of her lungs.

Eyes bulging and claws scrabbling against iron-ribbed gloves, she didn't even think before another demon bled into existence.

The bulging purple deathglare bobbed in place, its many eyes darting about before fixing upon her assailant. Nearby, the manic cackling of four imps almost seemed to synchronize as they popped out of their hiding places, only to freeze and point with looks of shock.

To her horror, not a single one hurled fire.

Her world was one giant, crushing, restraint and the jackahmmer thunder of her heart. With precious few seconds to spare, she opened her jaws wide and latched down on the gloved hand that was nearly as large as her whole torso.

It did absolutely nothing.

Until a moment later, she found herself spun around, teeth still set in the thick glove, and facing the widely grinning muzzle of a pandaren with a pair of flaming horns jutting from her forehead.

"Lyra! I missed you!" the chubby bear squealed, before clutching her tightly again and robbing her of what little breath she had managed in the second or so of being held out. Smothered in Esava's pudgy hug, she simply decided to wait out the hugging.

Esava never meant harm, and she was just as good as Wrack when it came to healing injuries, but her massive body did provide her with the means to smother her opposition. Or, at least that's what she thought... it was entirely possible that Esava was just a giant, short muzzled, incredibly fat, vulpera who loved everything that moved.

She wasn't quite clear on the particulars, but she was quick, clever, and she most definitely had a fluffy tail, so she probably counted. That Esava was actually taller than the orc woman at the door only meant that she had more room to put food.

And, precidtably, after a few more moments of bone-crushing, squishy hugging, she found herself plopped carefully back on her bench as the pandaren flopped down on a chair, causing the legs to creak. After a moment, she returned the glove, which Esava took with a laugh.

"I did not think you would make it! I'm so glad you did! Did you see the cookies? They're shaped like little people and they even have little hats made out of sugar! They're so good! I've had about six dozen so far and they just get better the more you have!" She grinned, her sharp teeth shining in the firelight. "I asked the highpriest if they were okay to have and he even said a blessing over them so I KNOW they're okay. I made hundreds of them! HUNDREDS! So we can have them all year long!"

She glanced at Esava's robes and estimated that the cookies might make it a week, if her understanding of hundreds was right.

Still, she smiled. Esava was a friend, and once her demons had realized what the mix up was, they had simply waited. No doubt, they'd be laughing out of earshot later. Still. Wrack and Esava, with the promise of Neeks and Sebaas, this winter veil seemed like an okay thing.

And then, there was something in her mouth... something hard and spicy and sweet.

But, it was in her mouth and she bit down with all the anger that such an intrusion deserved.

It took a moment to realize she'd just bitten the thing in half, and a moment of confusion led to her looking up at the amused laughter of her friends.

"I told you they were good!" chirped Esava as she tossed a handful of human shaped cookies in her mouth, no doubt adding another inch to her waist.

Blinking, she looked down to her occupied fingers and found them clutching the decapitated cookie. And, after a moment, she started to slowly chew what was in her mouth.

Spicy, and sweet, just like Esava said. Swallowing, she nodded and ate the body. It was good and she wouldn't let food go to waste.

This was apparently hilarious, as Esava started pounding the table while she laughed, the smile on her face almost as bright as her flaming horns.

When a nearby orc started laughing along and his tablemate started pounding the table as well, Esava only seemed to take it as a compliment, tossing another fistfull of humans into her mouth and washing them down with a steine that was half as tall as the vulpera.

Two other orcs apparently thought this was a challenge and waved over the barkeep who set two more mugs down with a heavy thud. Other patrons seemed to get the same idea and, within minutes, Esava was wandering around the few tables, guzzling down more drink than all the water they'd been given during their enslavement.

The orcs, apparently, did not understand how impressive this feat was, because a number of them ended up falling asleep, draped over chairs, and in one case, upside down, propped up on a table with a leg caught in the stairs to the upper loft.

Esava, smelling more of yeast than cookies at that point, had plopped back down with a grin, before promptly yelping as the seat finally surrendered under the combination of her weight and lack of care when sitting.

She'd just peeked over the table to check on her when an gloved paw grabbed her by her face and tugged her down.

Esava, was apparently, a sleep hugger, which got quite the round of laughs from Wrack and the remaining bar patrons.

For her own part, once she'd pried herself loose enough to breathe, she'd rolled her eyes and been about to climb back up to her bench when the sleeping Esava had grabbed her again and trapped her in a cushiony prison.

Which was the sight that met Sebaas and Neeks as they entered.

Despite her predicament, she couldn't help but to smile at the two, and after a moment, Neeks broke out into laughter of his own. Sebaas smiled and glanced around before tugging a ratty pillow from a badly abused seat and helped to trade vulpera for pillow in Esava's dreaming grasp.

A minutes labor and the four vulpera were seated again around the table.

She'd missed them. They knew and she didn't have to say it. Even so, she knew they knew whenever they glanced her way. She might not be good at speaking orc, but they were all quite fluent in the language of the sands... less than half of which was even verbal.

So she followed along as they caught up. Neeks was proud to present a little bauble of some kind, claiming to have taken it from a dragon of all things. Wrack, of course, called him a liar and the pair got into a comical argument until Sebaas had pulled a similar thing from a bag, affirming the source, much to Wrack's amazement.

Of course, after joining the Horde, they hadn't all been able to keep together. They'd had different skills and talents, different things they could offer to others, and they'd been scattered across the world. She'd even been to some places that didn't FEEL like the world, but that didn't make sense. Where would you be if not where you were? If there was a sky, if there was ground, there was the world... and if you knew they were there, you must be there too.

But despite all that, there were others who simply believed some very strange things.

That was alright, she guessed, it didn't hurt anyone but mapmakers and she rarely had the patience for maps.

In the end, the world was just a big enough place that if you went far enough, she was certain you could find just about anything.

But at that moment, the server wandered over, through the scattered, sleeping, orcs, and carefully stepped over Esava to place a platter of fried bread and a lump of meat on their table.

It was far from the largest lump of meat she'd ever seen, or eaten for that matter, but she supposed for an orc, it was probably a good amount.

Orcs, she'd found, were large and loud, but when it really came down to it, there just wasn't that much to them. They were big, they liked sounding bigger, and they loved their weapons and armor to be even bigger than that. They liked to feel bigger than they were, and that was shown in everything they did.

An orc didn't run into battle, an orc CHARGED into battle! They didn't tell stories, an orc BOASTED OF THEIR CONQUESTS! An orc didn't die from a wound, an orc FELL IN GLORIOUS COMBAT!

She really didn't see the difference, to be honest, but one thing that orcs did that she really hated was that they acted the same way with food.

Oh, the peons were fine, she supposed, they'd get by on a pot of soup and maybe some bread, but the warriors, the ones with the big armor and giant weapons? The warriors wanted to make a show of it.

They'd order more food than they could possibly eat. They'd wave it around while shouting about how great they were. They'd drop bits on the ground and even throw it if they were angry. They'd stuff their faces and then leave piles of perfectly good food sitting there while they ordered more because they could.

She'd seen entire pigs be sent back because they weren't 'meaty' enough. She'd even seen them leave the bones on the table.

She must have been thinking too long because the server had backed away slightly and no one had touched the food.

Sebaas took it upon himself to order for her. She didn't even mind. They'd known each other long enough that she trusted him to make a good order.

And, soon enough, more food was brought over and set before her friends as opposed to in the middle of the table.

The bread and meat hadn't lasted long, but the smaller plates weren't as much of a problem. She'd even been given a cookie on hers, along with a few of the little lizards she'd seen scurrying around outside. How thoughtful. Fresh caught!

So while she busied herself with keeping her food from running away, the others enjoyed their meals. The cooking was delicious. They hadn't even added fire to her lizards so they didn't even taste burnt.

Wrack worked through her meal with abandon, savoring every bite and washing each down with something from her cup. Having taken up piracy, Wrack had had access to more money and food than the rest of them, and she loved sharing. At least, she loved sharing with friends. She seriously doubted that the people and things she took her gold from would appreciate her generosity.

Neeks, in a similar vein, liked to experience life, in the most visceral sense. His work dealt more with clearing out vermin, from her understanding. He, also, had more money than he knew what to do with and she couldn't believe someone would actually pay to get rid of pests. Why not just save them for later? It didn't make sense, but the Horde seemed to have so much food that they actually made themselves DISLIKE snacks. They paid people to kill and discard their freshest foods. Strange things indeed. As a result, she supposed, Neeks had taken a bit more towards his employers and ordered meat and bread and soup and a drink which he kept having refilled. If she didn't know how much magic could take out of him, she'd probably be upset with how wasteful it would seem, but, quite like herself, she knew he would finish it all.

Sebaas, of course, ate very little. His plate held only a small piece of bread and some stone-dried salted meat from some unknown creature. He was meticulous and didn't waste a thing. He even brought his own drink. For all its meager portions, she knew from experience that Sebaas' meals were quite rich... if one could stand the taste. Oily and salty, with harsh tones of bitterness from the packing... but very long lasting and with no worries of going bad.

And Esava, who would eventually wake up and could probably eat more than a tauren.

When the table darkened, she'd looked up and reacted with haste.

The undead positively loomed, before she'd stabbed him with a bone from her plate and leapt back. Her imps instantly drawing up into formation as Abarin hopped to her side.

Of course Wrack had laughed. Neeks had hopped out of the potential crossfire, and Sebaas had pushed away from the table before stepping between them with a half smirk. "We told you he'd be here."

And, just like that, she'd put the face with a name and felt rather foolish.

But vulpera are clever and quick and warlocks even more so, so she didn't say anything as she got back in her seat and ate a lizard.

Nrubluos, for his own part, impassively pulled the sharp bone from his thigh, turned it in his fingers as he looked it over, and then carefully placed it back on her plate. "No harm done. A pleasure to see you all, as always."

With a slight creak, Nrubluos sat down, his face a slight grimace, even if his words held no anger. "I see we're all having a festive night? Lovely." The corner of his lips turned just a bit up. "I had been thinking I should bring snacks, but I'm fairly certain only one or two might find them enjoyable."

Sebaas, seeing that there was likely no more bloodshed in the immediate future, sat back down, the smirk never leaving his face.

Wrack, of course, couldn't pass up the moment to make the whole thing that much louder. "Sure sure. Fingerfoods or something, right?"

Nrubluos chuckled and shrugged. "I had considered simply making burgers, though not even the goblins want to grill them up." He smirked slightly, "Shame. At least the imps do a fair job at the matter."

She frowned for a moment. Why would goblins not want to grill a sandwich? Why would you grill a sandwich anyway? She knew she was missing something, but nothing seemed wrong on its own. With a squint, she tried to figure out why Wrack was still laughing and Sebaas just shaking his head.

Neeks just leaned over and whispered "He's joking about using gnomes for meat, and the goblins won't serve food that might call for help. Professional courtesy and all."

Ah. He was joking about eating people again. She scowled before turning back to her friends and trying to ignore the corpse that was also a warlock and was also also her sometimes ally.

Reaching across the table for an empty plate, Nrubluos said, "I do hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of inviting a few friends for our little get together. It was rather last minute, you see, but I believe you'll find their company enriching."

She felt her hackles rise just a bit, but Wrack and Sebaas seemed to take it in stride. Neeks waved a paw as he flagged the server down again.

He was bringing MORE strangers? More strangers to THEIR gathering! To THEIR winter veil?

And upon looking up, she found her friends all looking at her with a bit of concern.

She stopped growling.

"I take it that this is disagreeable," he shrugged, "Pity. I was certain you would have enjoyed the hunt with a few more dedicated individuals."

Wrack's ears perked as she glanced back over again. "Hunt? I thought we were looting the tree and maybe skimming some from the goblins."

Sebaas shrugged. "Fine by me. The more people, the less chance of anyone getting hurt."

Neeks laughed a bit as he took a pitcher from the server and lightly tossed it to Nrublous. "That's the spirit. So, hunt eh? Greench? Yeti? Magical flying double unicorn?"

Nrubluos carefully uncapped the pitcher before pouring a bitter smelling fluid into his mug. "I was rather thinking of a dwarf who likes to impersonate Greatfather Winter." He looked up slowly, taking the moment to fix her with the lambent glow of his gaze. "You know... putting the jolly fat man in his place for crushing the dreams of all those adorable little tykes at the orphanage? Can't have him going around letting them think he's the real thing when we have our own sitting outside the Grommash Hold."

Something about that sounded wrong to her. Fake Greatfather? No... she knew the Greatfather came to Orgrimmar. Dwarf Greatfather? No... The Greatfather was an orc. She knew that from Wrack and Neeks. Orphanage tykes? She didn't know what those were, but orphans were kits without parents and no one got away with hurting them. The Sethrak make orphans. The Sethrak ate orphans. She growled and didn't even try to stop it as she glanced at Sebaas and Wrack.

Neeks, though, was the one who voiced it. "I'm just going to say that no one should ever do that to orphans. That's cruel, you know." He chuckled and tossed a handful of coins at the barkeep, who ducked and snorted before picking them up. "So I guess we're all in."

"Aye!" shouted Wrack, while Sebaas just waved his agreement with a smile.

Surprisingly, Nrubluos suddenly disappeared, but the muffled curses from under the table explained it all as Esava continued to be huggy in her sleep.

-~oOo~-


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they're off to slay the false Greatfather... because there can be no possible way that won't end poorly. But before you can complete a quest, you first have to get there.

They were riding the upfloor to Wrack's flying boat, gears larger than her, spinning in the walls as they went up. She hated these things. They were loud and growled and behind the metal grates, she could see spikes and gears and ... things that did stuff that was loud.

She squinted as a particularly shrill squeal came from a bent something in the wall. Probably a metal something. Probably not a rat getting caught up and ground into slippery stuff.

Probably.

Whatever it was, it set her fur on edge and made her ears flatten themselves down until the clattering floor finally came to a stop, the edges flattening out as they met the platform above.

Finally free of the terrible sounding upfloor, she darted off and dodged around the short chain as the others joined her. She knew it would wait a few seconds before going back down, but she had no intention of having to ride it again. Not if she could avoid it.

Granted, she could have flown up with her mount, but... Neeks had warned her about orcs and rumors. Still didn't make any sense. Why would mounting her vulpine in public start a rumor?

She squinted her eyes and frowned. Probably thought she'd have to have stolen him. Bloody orcs and their stupid rumors. She'd bought him fair and square and they were great friends.

After a few moments of frustration, she scampered over to the mailbox to wait. Wrack knew where her boat was and if they were all going, it made sense to use it.

Neeks, of course, insisted on flying there himself and Esava, once she had woken up, had planned to join in with her own mount... a long, skinny, flying snake with legs. She said it was a 'cloud serpent'... which just meant a flying snake with legs. She didn't like snakes... but Esava promised it wasn't a snake.

Even if it was.

Still, when they all had gotten off and started to walk towards the flight towers, Wrack had pointed off to the side to show off her boat.

It wasn't very large.

Granted, it was bigger than her vulpine, but that was to be expected, it was a boat after all. The thing was round and bulged a little in the middle. There were little lanterns that swung slowly as it rocked, and a wheel with just enough room for Wrack to stand behind. There were sails that stood up and down and to the sides making it look even larger than it really was, but the sails didn't make sense at all. If it was flying, wouldn't the sails pull it backwards? She didn't know much about boats, especially flying boats, but she did know about cloth in wind. The dunes had storms and cloth ALWAYS followed the wind. Wrack was either a very good pirate or very bad at boatsails.

But there was something else that was strange. The front of the boat had an octopus... thing... on it that seemed to twitch and move every so often. She didn't like it... boats didn't normally have tentacles and it didn't look like she could eat the legs either.

But Wrack just hopped over and grinned while pointing out her 'little lady.'

Well, if Wrack liked it, she supposed she could like it too. It was a flying boat, and she didn't know of any others to compare it to. It ~was~ certainly less full of goblins than the zepplins, so it couldn't be that dangerous.

He, of course, just shook his head and smiled before summoning a skeletal horse that seemed to burn from the inside with green fire. It looked rather angry, covered in black armor as small flames licked its hooves, and the whinny it screeched as it boiled into the world echoed like the dying screams of a bonepicker.

She did not like it.

He explained he had taken it from the "Headless Horseman"... and pulled himself up with a half smile.

She did not like it, at all.

But Neeks whistled and smiled, so it must have been impressive. She still did not like it.

Sebaas just called up his own undead flying thing. She honestly didn't know what to call it, but at least it didn't scream like His did.

"I don't have to tell you that what we're doing is of somewhat dubious intent, do I?" Nrubluos asked.

She had to stop and think. Stopping a fake Greatfather Winter was possibly bad?

That didn't make sense at all, but she supposed that if he had succeeded in tricking someone, it might look like they were trying to kill the Greatfather. Of course, that assumed that the Greatfather in front of the big tree was fake, but that made even less sense. He gave out presents. Why would a fake give out presents?

Shaking her head, she just frowned. He was just being difficult. He did that kind of thing.

At least the others seemed to understand as they nodded.

Wrack just hopped on her boat, shrugging as everyone else got on their own mounts. "Gotta say, you lot don't look like ye trust my ship." She laughed a moment before patting the wheel affectionately. "Can't say I blame you. She's a good girl, but that's less for me to worry about."

She blinked. Wait... Wrack wasn't bringing everyone on her boat?

Esava had her snake thing. Sebaas had his dead thing. He had his burning horse skeleton. Wrack had her boat. Neeks had flown up, but she hadn't seen his mount. But ... she frowned.

She glared at him. She was certain this was his doing... somehow. That Forsaken was playing a trick on her by getting everyone to use their own flying mounts.

She squinted at him, trying to figure out his trick. He was a warlock... it made a certain amount of sense, even if he was supposed to be their ally.

Well, she wasn't going to let him win.

So, with a snort, she channeled a trickle of magic into her summoning and her blue vulpine friend sprung out of the air at her feet.

She smiled as he looked around quickly before stuffing his nose under her and flipping her onto his back. She reached down and scratched his cheek. He liked that.

A nearby orc snorted in disgust.

She glared before nine firebolts pelted him from the imps that were scattered around her. Then she smiled as the orc stumbled back and tripped over the edge of the plateau, falling with a comical yell.

Abarin cackled for just a moment before coughing and smiling in a polite manner, the other imps just laughed and scampered around.

And, much to her surprise, Nrubluos gave out a raspy chuckle of his own before nodding. "Serves him right. Well done, Telloslyra."

She blinked. He'd just said something nice?

But before she could think on it further, his skeleton horse thing had reared up and launched itself into the sky. Her friends followed without pause.

She looked back, noticing the glare from a few of the nearby orcs, though the cadre of cackling imps seemed to give them pause.

She shrugged and smiled before patting her vulpine friend who darted forward a few steps before springing into the air to follow.

As clouds parted, she glanced back to see a flight of wyverns lazily making their rounds. None gave chase. Apparently knocking an orc off a cliff was alright, the guards didn't know she'd done so, or he'd survived. She smirked.

She would have survived. Vulpera were good at surviving.

She looked forward again, adjusting their flight with a gentle shift of her weight. Beneath her, the warm fur and rippling muscles of her vulpine friend shifted with the wings that spread like ghostly light from his sides. She leaned in close and breathed in his scent. He was a good friend, and he'd not betray her. Holding on tight, she had him follow her other friends, using Wrack's boat as a guide.

A point of cold struck her nose, causing her to reflexively sneeze. Snow, she noted, had just begun to fall as the red rocks of Orgrimmar faded into the distance.

-~oOo~-

The goblin town was a noisy place full of metal and oil and smelly stuff that she did not want to get in her coat. It was warmer than Orgrimmar, which was good as far as she was concerned, but was also damp from the ocean, which was less good.

Warmer than Orgrimmar didn't mean very much when Orgrimmar was currently receiving snow, and damp just made warmer than snowy Orgrimmar more unpleasant than just warmer than Orgrimmar.

Then again, warmer was warmer, so she wasn't planning to complain.

The others seemed to think the same thing, pulling up collars or tugging the ends of their clothing to cover more when they could. Esava seemed completely unaware though, probably all that extra fat and fluff.

He didn't care at all. She wondered briefly if he would even notice if someone replaced his bed with a block of ice. Squinting at the goblin he was talking to, she guessed he probably wouldn't... she didn't remember him sleeping.

While Neeks was busy getting things from the goblins who kept stuff for people, Sebaas and Wrack were picking up booze at the inn and Esava was 'sharing' some stories while a goblin toasted a small white thing on a stick over her flaming horns, she decided to wait on the pier with her vulpine.

It was salty and damp and uncomfortable, but at least it felt something like home.

There was the breeze off the coast and the sound of birds in the air. Water lapped at the shore and the occasional splash of a fish would draw the attention of one of the nearby fishers. It wasn't hot, but if she just closed her eyes and pretended the sky was dark, it almost felt like the western coast of Vol'dun.

There were the murmurs of the dock workers, yes, and the goblins were missing fluffy tails, and there were entirely too few trolls to be Vol'dun, but besides all that, it felt like it, somewhere deep down.

She sighed as her vulpine friend nudged her with his nose.

She knew what he was after, but she waited until the second nudge before she pulled out a twist of dried fish to give him as a treat.

The stuff was oily, and smelly, and tough as leather, but it was tasty and lasted a good long time. Of course, she couldn't let any go to waste, so she started tugging and pulling at it with her teeth, slowly working a piece free before dropping the rest back in her bag.

Turning to her friend, she chuckled when he nipped it from her teeth and happily clamped it down to the dock with a fluffy blue paw.

It was while she was running her claws through his neck fur, checking for pests, when she heard the orc muttering to a goblin nearby.

"That's disgusting, I tell yah. Disgrace to the Horde, letting those mongrels in."

The goblin, clearly more interested in fishing, nodded along. "Yheah yheah. Horrible color and all that."

"Color? I'm talking about them! Not some color you little midget."

She frowned as she looked up, the bare chested orc half looming over a goblin wearing a floppy hat and fishing from a barrel.

"Sure sure. They're the worst."

"Exactly! Draggin' us all down and making a fool of us at the same time." He shook his head, while standing back up and looking out to sea. "We'd be better off without a single one of those damn ~animals~."

She frowned as she listened, her vulpine friend happily gnawing away at his fish.

The goblin, however, seemed to realize where the conversation was going and paused in his fishing to look up to the orc. "Yer honestly sayin' that you want 'em gone from the Horde? After all they done?" He shook his head and smirked, sharp teeth glinting as he turned back to fishing. "I don't know if yer half dumb or half stupid."

"Half dumb?! I am not dumb! They're the problem!" The orc nearly shouted as the goblin chuckled to himself.

"Fine fine. Yeh ain't half dumb. That would make you half stupid." The goblin shook his head and lit a match with the side of his fishing pole before pulling a red candle from a pocket. "They go places you won't. They fix stuff no one wants to. They know how to use what they got and they ain't half bad fer business either. Hell, they'll eat anything and we don't even have to give most of 'em a bed at the inn." He lit the candle and held it for a few seconds before looking up at the suddenly quiet orc. "Hey, hold this for a moment, I gotta check somethin'."

The orc nervously took the candle while the goblin put his pole down and pulled out a net on a stick. A moment later, he reached up, plucked the candle from the orc, and thew it into the ocean.

She watched, confused, as the orc seemed to relax. Was he afraid of fire? A big, tough, orc like him was scared of a candle? She would have laughed if the ocean hadn't suddenly roared and threw water at the sky.

She darted back, startled, before the water started to rain down, soaking her down to her skin.

It was cold, and smelled bad, and was WET.

She snarled as she glared at the goblin who... was not where he had been a moment ago. Instead, the orc was soaking wet, looking disgusted, and turning around with loud mutters.

She blinked when a few seconds later, a splash near her feet drew her attention as the soaking wet goblin pulled himself out of the water and up onto the dock. His face held a big grin as he tipped his head to the side and hit himself lightly, knocking water from his ears.

"Glad that's over. Real dumb, these newbies... always thinking with their muscles and flexing with their guts." He grinned as an imp popped into existence near his feet and looked up to chuckle at her confused look. He laughed a toothy laugh before turning around and pulling his stick up from the water, the net swollen with stunned fish.

"Don't mind 'em... they're just too dumb to see an opportunity when it hits 'em in the face."

She nodded slowly, but raised a brow at the net of fish.

The goblin glanced behind him before smirking and looking back. "Yheah yheah. Fine. You get a freebie for getting caught in the blast." He picked through a few before tossing a large blue scaled fish to her, and after a moment, one more to her vulpine friend. "And one for the pooch. Winterveil and all, eh?" He chuckled and started to stroll off as the distant clang of a bell drifted in from the waves.

As he was strolling off, she heard him start to speak again and turned to watch. To her surprise, he was looking up at the Forsaken warlock and pointing off towards the inn. Nrubluos seemed to pause before glancing over at the inn himself and nodding before dropping a few silver coins into the goblin's hand. A moment later, the goblin was strolling off with his net of fish and Nrubluos was tapping his fingers on one of the wooden pylons.

Another imp popped into existence with a happy cackle, drawing his attention, and with only a backward glance at the inn, he wandered over and sat down.

She frowned and wrinkled her nose. Forsaken didn't all smell bad, after all, but he always smelled like bubbling and burning things to her. Wrack called it alchemy. She thought of it as things that smelled bad.

At least this time he smelled like cheese and meat too.

"You know, if that orc was bothering you I could go and introduce him to his organs."

She looked up.

"In alphabetical order, of course," he smirked, the stitching on his face pulling at the gesture. It was hardly attractive, but she wasn't afraid of the undead... Vol'dun was full of them.

After a few moments, his smirk fell and he looked off at the slowly approaching ship. "You know, she won't say it, but Wrack's worried about you."

She blinked, her ears flipping to focus on him.

"She sees you out there, doing what you do, what ~we~ do, Neeks, yourself and I, and she gets worried." He looked up as an imp hopped onto his head from thin air, an unamused look on his face. Taking the hint, the imp darted off and hid behind her vulpine friend. "She'd not wrong, of course, it is dangerous, but she's a priest so she doesn't know any better."

He frowned as he leaned back, joints creaking just audibly. A few seconds passed before he glanced over at her and nodded. "I keep telling her that you'll be fine, but she worries you'll get tricked into something with a demon or that some fool will try to take advantage of your... unique... view of the world." He scowled as a small crab scuttled across the dock, kicking it before shaking his foot to remove the critter from his foot.

"I keep telling her that you'll be fine, that even with all the things out there that you'll find a way through it, that you're a warlock and that that is what warlocks do." He pulled off his boot and shook it out before pulling it back on. "But she always worries about you since you all have gone your separate ways."

She frowned. It wasn't like Wrack to be worried. She was always fixing things. She was always putting her friends back together, using her magic to heal them. What could she be worried about? She could heal anything. Something didn't make sense, but it was just out of her paws. She looked up and saw Neeks and Esava walking towards the dock.

"Be careful when we get to Booty Bay," he said softly, "Make certain you have a soul stone prepared. I know you don't like the zepplins, so we'll be taking a wyvern to Grom'Gol from there. Watch your money and don't let anyone get near your bags." With a small nod, he stood up, frowned for a moment, and sharply shook his leg, causing the ornery crab to tumble back into the water.

Neeks and Esava walked over, sporting smiles (and in Esava's case, some sugary goop in her hair) as Nrubluos nodded to both. Sebaas arrived a minute later with Wrack in tow, carrying a large box that clinked as it shifted in his grasp.

And finally, after sitting on a dock, soaking wet, they were able to board the ship... while she carried a fish given to her by a goblin.

-~oOo~-

The boat was fast, faster than it should have been. Wrack had insisted that ships were faster than boats and that the boat from the goblin town had in fact been a ship. It was still faster than it should have been.

One minute she had found a nice dark spot to curl up under the stairs, her vulpine friend curled tightly around her, and the next she was being poked with a long stick by some angry goblin.

A short discussion, primarily handled by her imps in the dialect of 'firebolt', and she was allowed to nap for a few more minutes before Esava had reached under and cheerfully plucked her from the nice dry warmth she'd been napping in.

This was offset by being wrapped around her neck and partly tucked into her cloak, but it wasn't quite as nice as sleeping curled up with her vulpine friend. Even with her fiery horns for added warmth... they were bright after all.

Still, riding on Esava aside, the boat was still faster than it should have been.

Within moments of Esava getting to the deck, the distant sound of a port town reached her ears.

There was the ringing tings of a smithy, the hawking shout of a broker, the distant flapping of canvas over the much closer ruffling of the sails. And above it all, the screeching cries of seagulls.

She loved seagulls. She hated seagulls being noisy.

So, despite being warm again, she cracked an eye open to find that they were quickly approaching a ramshackle port that looked more like a few wrecked ships patched together with some little plank houses and a single, massive, stone rampart.

Granted, the rampart was mostly destroyed, its red rimmed cannon at odd angles from what must have been a devestating hit, but she imagined that when it had been together, it must have looked impressive.

There was also a giant goblin statue that had broken open like a clay pot, but they were nearly past that already.

But they were coming in to the dock much sooner than she had thought.

You shouldn't be able to cross an ocean in one nap.

Still, if they were that close, it was time to get up and get ready, so with a wide yawn and a little stretch, she hopped off Esava's shoulders and performed a proper stretch on the deck.

When a sharp whistle caught her attention, she froze mid stretch and glanced behind her at a short worgen with a wide grin leaning up against the deck rail. His teeth were shining, his ears straight up, and despite the warmer temperature, he was wearing little more than a thin shirt and some shoddy canvas pants.

Blinking at the strange wolf-person, it took a shift in the breeze to send a shiver up her spine before her confusion turned to red hot anger.

In an instant, her tail went down, her fur bristled, she hopped to her feet and spun around.

He was laughing now, big teeth shining in his wide grin, but for all the world, he looked absolutely clueless to her.

The cackling of six imps suddenly got his attention, and though it didn't stop his laughter, it certainly wasn't quite as hearty.

Before she could discipline the laughing dog however, he suddenly was yanked into the air as he clutched his throat.

Sebaas stalked out of the hold from behind her, his hand raised as if holding a cup, before he took two more steps forward, the worgen following suit and floating over the open water, and letting his spell end.

The worgen stopped laughing as he fell into the bay and was quickly left to swim to shore.

A few goblins drew weapons, but the sudden presence of Neeks and Wrack seemed to give them pause.

"No harm done... just a mangy animal wanting a swim is all," came the half growled reply from above decks as Nrubluos added in his thoughts on the matter, despite having his feet propped up on a rail while relaxing in a chair. "Serves him right, if you ask me."

The goblin guards glanced around before the captain shouted out to get back to work, that the dock was coming up in less than a minute.

And though no one said anything about it, she was somewhat glad that she had still been wearing pants rather than her normal robes. Pants, as more than a fashion choice, might be a reasonable course of action in the future.

-~oOo~-

Booty Bay, the SECOND goblin port, was warmer than the first and larger by far, and when the ship finally drew up to the dock, a small army of goblins started throwing ropes both to and from the ship. Within moments, it had been secured and the various passengers began to leave.

Idly, she wondered when the worgen might make it to shore and if he'd smell like a wet dog, rotting fish, or just plain unclean.

She knew that the worgen were cursed humans... so they probably didn't know how to clean themselves properly. In a way, she felt a little sorry for them. That was normally when she remembered that humans had been murdering vulpera for no other reason than because they could... and often came to the conclusion that they could light themselves on fire if they hated their fur that much.

Still, even if he was rude, it wasn't like he had attacked her.

He could have stabbed her, beaten her with a club, strangled her, cast a spell or even just kicked her hard enough to break bones. He could have done a lot of things, and a lot of things included things that she would have removed parts of him for. But... he'd whistled.

She snorted as she mounted her vulpine friend and had him follow Sebaas off the ship. She knew enough about humans to know when they were being rude. It didn't matter if he was grinning — whistling at her like she was a dog was just plain rude!

She scowled again. He probably thought that if he gave her an old bone she'd let him scratch her ears or play get too.

She knew that they called it 'fetch', but that didn't make any sense. You threw something and chased it to bring back. That was called getting something.

Extremely rude.

She was drawn from her thoughts as Sebaas took a turn to avoid a draenei carrying some planks, causing her vulpine friend to leap across a small gap to avoid an unexpected swim. Gripping his fur tightly, she managed to just hold on until he landed, slipped, and tumbled once across the boardwalk. Springing back to his feet, he spun around to flip her back onto his back but as she landed, she noticed that Sebaas had continued on and become lost in the crowd.

This was not good. There were more than just goblins there. Booty Bay was a neutral port, a goblin town, and a center of travel and trade. It was crowded and bright, and most of all busy. There were too many scents to follow and not enough room to spot someone as small as her friends with any luck. Worse, it had been covered with ribbons and circles of tree limbs. Boxes with bright colors and overly large bells hung over doorways and randomly around the dock. There was even a group of goblins singing in their horrible little shrieky voices and everywhere there were little green and red hats making it even harder to find her friends.

Of course Esava and the Forsaken were taller, but they weren't the only ones in the town. For a brief moment, she started to worry. What if they left her behind? What if they didn't notice? What if the worgen came back smelling like fish and he still wanted to play stupid dog games?

Her vulpine friend though? He just snuffled along for a moment before leaping into the air, glowing wings flapping into existence beside them, and flapping a few times to catch up.

He was a good friend, and so very clever too. She smiled as they caught up and followed along for another minute before skirting around a large shark hanging from a crane.

Oddly, there was a box beneath the shark where a goblin was standing wearing a little green outfit and fluffy hat and looking frightened and holding his hands above his head.

Another goblin stood a few paces away with a box that sounded like her claws tapping on rock.

Strange things goblins did.

Still, after avoiding the shark on a rope, they crowded into a narrow door hidden around a corner and into a dark tavern that looked more like the inside of a ship than an actual building.

Goblins wandered around with funny shirts and plates full of cups full of drinks full of bubbles while customers of all kinds sat or stood while waiting for the funny goblins. The whole place smelled of salt and fish and beer, though hints of blood and vomit seasoned the floor with a degree of regularity.

Thankfully even the Forsaken seemed to dislike the place as he waved them through, lightly tapping Esava on the head to get her to lean down so as not to ignite the ceiling with her horns.

Ever the cheery one, Esava's response was to giggle, pick up a mug in passing, down it, and slap a small handful of coins on top of a goblin server's head just before starting up the steps and through the sleeping portion of the place.

Thankfully, despite the darkness, there were lanterns, candles, and cracks through which sunlight bled, otherwise she assumed Esava and the Forsaken would have found it hard to walk without tripping. Even with the little lighted trees, she was glad for her good vision... there were no fewer than three sleeping customers sprawled across the aisle that she had to hop over.

Finally, Wrack waved them forward as an open doorway led to the bright light of day once more, their group emerging out onto a little ledge that overlooked most of Booty Bay.

Without hesitating, Nrubluos took a left and stepped around the little platform onto a small stoop a foot or two above the tiled roof of the inn. Beside him stood a heavily muscled, tanned orc with a grin, and unlike the orcs of Orgrimmar, he didn't look like an idiot.

The Forsaken exchanged a few words and a handful of coins before returning with a nod. "Alright. Everyone here? Didn't lose anything important on the way? No bags? Money? Important organs? No? Good. Let's get on up to Grom'gol so we can get to Ironforge before midnight. It'll be cold there and I don't want to have to make a fire."

Looking over the group one last time, Esava suddenly bounced up and waved before nearly knocking the orc off the roof as she darted over to the railing and called out "We're up here! UP HERE!"

Nrubluos tilted his head back as if sighing before turning back to the wyverns and swinging himself up onto a saddle.

Sebaas, Wrack, and Neeks all followed suit before she climbed up as well. The wyvern was not nearly as comfortable as her vulpine friend, but at least he wasn't a zeppelin.

Esava continued shouting for a few more moments before bouncing over to hop on a wyvern as well.

She wasn't an expert, but she could have sworn the wyvern grunted as Esava landed in the saddle.

Still, Booty Bat was nicer than Orgrimmar at the moment. It was warm, almost hot, and even with the sharks and goblins and worgens just now finally reaching shore, it was still better than being cold. She was with her friends and they were going to stop a fake Greatfather, how could things be better? She nodded to herself, her vulpine friend vanishing as she cut the magic that kept him near. It was time to go to someplace else! The Wyverns would fly them there and then they would stop the fake Greatfather and the orphans would be happy and they could do things and be happy and safe.

An imp popped into existence and promptly fell off the roof. She shook her head at that. The other imps just pointed and cackled as the new imp sputtered up from the water below. Abarin chuckled softly as he scampered along behind her, still clutching the box dutifully. She briefly wondered what was in there, but a sharp whistle caused her wyvern to tense and ready his wings.

And right as they were about to take off, she noticed something strange: there was a little green spiky leaf with red berries and a little bell clipped to the side of each wyvern.


End file.
